#Like they think my work is good enough to translate and share it with others?

[womp-womp-waa]

I'm happy rn because someone asked me on ao3 if they can translate my sbg fics into Russian.

That is the biggest compliment I have ever been given

[solradguy]

Ino crumb anon here, if you ever get a chance pls listen to the cds too! I love the voice acting and score in them. And yea the fandom has had its ups and downs with translators over the years. I never realized how much beef there was until I saw a bunch of older (late 2000s - early 10s) blogs and twitter accounts complaining about some guys who did a particularly shitty job. Another thing that I’m grateful about Bridget getting in strive is the fandom learning not to trust every single guy who claims to know japanese. I’m glad the fandom is shifting to translators who are more transparent about their process. Anyways, just thanks for work you guys do

I'll see if I can dig them up!! I've got access to the GGX Drama CDs but not the audio for the Red/Black ones (but I know where to look so it's ok, I'll find them eventually).

Oh yeah I have no idea what fully went down in the early GG Japanese->English translation community, but digging through old files and archives has a sense of walking through a field where you know a lot of people died in an old war lol The details of what happened are something I've resolved to leave in the past. It feels too much like poking at a Pandora's Box.

If you ever see a translator insisting that their translation is right but they won't even do the bare minimum of sharing the original Japanese line, then something's up for sure haha There was a lot of that when Bridget was added to Strive...

Thank you for reading the stuff we do!! It's motivating, honestly, knowing people take some time out to read our projects <3

[dwaekkicidal]

The Easy Way vs The Hard Way

˚ʚBang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: I was thinking about brat taming the other day and I came to the conclusion that Chris has 2 different ways to tame a brat. So I procrastinated on my fics + assignments and wrote this :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, largely based around Daddy kink, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3), breeding mentions, Chris calls himself Daddy, 'good girl' used #2: kinda hard dom!chris, man handling, spanking

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: sorry not sorry that 'hard' is longer than 'easy' (are u surprised? have you SEEN my content?) and take this off of schedule because I hate letting things sit in my drafts for more than a day 😭 ALSO Sharing is Caring part 2 coming out later this week :3 (along with a Jisung request I got hehe <3)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

I think he has 2 ways of taming brats depending on what his mood is. So here's a little scenario to picture so that I can explain what I mean!

After a long day for the both of you, you guys indulge each other in a nice hour or 2 of foreplay before he finally fucks you. After you both finish, Chris pulls away to watch his cum drip out of you and you wiggle your hips to tease him. He slaps your ass playfully in response and teases you back by saying something along the lines of “Unless you’re trying to get bred tonight, I suggest you stop shaking your ass at me like that baby.” “As if you would complain about that. For somebody who calls himself ‘Daddy’ and says he ‘DoEsN’t MeAn It LiKe ThAt’, you sure as hell are trying to become one.” He originally laughs, but once he processes that you mocked him he rolls his eyes at you, “Just have to be a little brat? Maybe I didn’t fuck you thoroughly enough.” You scoff, crossing your arms and turning to look at him, “You think you do that anyways?”

So. How does theee Bang Christopher Chan deal with this?

‘Easy’ Way; aka “kill them with kindness”

“You think you do that anyways?”

He simply narrows his eyes at you, placing his hands on his hips, “Yeah?”

You proudly respond with an “Mhm." and stick your chin up.

He chuckles, stepping towards you and raising his hand to rest against your cheek, softly caressing the skin there. “But baby, you were just the one begging me to fuck you. Surely if I ‘never’ fucked you thoroughly enough, you wouldn’t be on your knees begging for my dick to be in you?”

You frown and he laughs in response, not giving you a chance to speak up before he continues. His free hand trails down your stomach and stops at your cunt, where he ghosts his fingers along your folds. You whimper and chew on your bottom lip, looking away from him shyly.

"And... Where did my good girl go? Hm? My pretty baby who listens soo well.” His fingers tease your hole before you’re filled with two of them. “My sweet doll who would never let her Daddy down like this.” His fingers double their efforts and the hand on your cheek slides a thumb into your puffy lips. "The good girl who doesn’t disrespect her Daddy like this… Where is she at?” Your breath suddenly becomes hectic and he can tell you’re getting close.

Between the bittersweet words and the eager movements against your pussy, you slip into another mindset all too easily. He smiles when you finally look at him with glossy eyes and respond in a small voice, "'M right here..." He tilts his head at you expectantly and you squirm in his hold before repeating yourself louder. "I'm right here Daddy.."

"Oh, hi baby. Is my good girl back now?" You nod desperately in response, tightening your hands into fists against his chest as you grip around his fingers. "And is she ready to behave?"

"Yes, Daddy. 'M sorry.."

"Shhh, it’s okay baby. Now be good and cum on my fingers, kay?"

Hard’ Way; aka “fuck around and find out”

“You think you do that anyways?”

His eyebrows furrow and his tongue drags against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah? You’re really gonna do this right now? Right after I was nice enough to let you cum?” You gulp but stand your ground, making a scene to roll your eyes and lean back against the headboard.

He sits there silently, trying to give you another chance to come to your senses to realize that you’re butt ass naked in front of him and at his mercy. When you instead cock your head sideways with a bunch of attitude, he sighs loudly. His hands suddenly grips your ankles and drags you towards him. Then you’re flipped into your stomach and he renters you with no warning.

Your jaw drops and you moan loudly in surprise. His hands take turns slamming down against your ass cheeks over and over, seemingly getting harder with each slap. He sighs contently at the way you cling tightly around him with each smack, and he only stops once your cheeks are beet red and you’re trembling below him.

He hums to himself and taps the flesh, making it burn more and watching as you shake. "Such a pretty thing with such pretty reactions.. If only you were a good plaything and shut that pretty mouth for once."

He watches as your head snaps back towards him for a moment, the angry face and tears running down your face only make him smile at you. You feel his hips drag away from you, painfully slowly, until only the first centimeter or two of his tip are in you. You're taking a deep breath trying to regain your composure when a hand grabs a tight grip of your hair and pulls you backwards, his hips slamming forward at the same time.

A choke leaves you at the suddenness but he wastes no time, using the leverage in your hair to hold you in place as he fucks into you roughly. The aftermath of your previous orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel another one building up in no time. You melt into the sheets at the feeling, shaking as you almost tip over from one of the faster orgasms you've experienced, but Chris proves himself to be faster.

In an instant he's pulling out completely and holding you down preemptively for when you start thrash and whine. He waits until you stop kicking your feet at him, a tell tale sign that the tightness in your stomach finally faded, then he all of the sudden plunges back into you. The slide against your walls is rough, but you can’t deny how well it’s breaking down your resolution.

He uses the hand in your hair to tilt your head up at him when he leans forward to tower over you. It's very uncomfortable but it gives him the advantage as his narrowed eyes bore directly into you. He eventually changes positions, not wanting to actually hurt you like that, and he uses the new one to bring you to another orgasm. One that he, of course, ruins immediately with no hesitation.

This happens multiple times across the next 2 hours, to the point where you lost count of how many orgasms slipped away. It's not until you're sobbing beneath him and no longer kicking at him with each ruined orgasm, that he's flipping you onto your back and leaning down to kiss your tears away.

"Are you done now, love? You ready to be my good girl again?"

Your arms wrap around his neck and your lower lip trembles as you nod. He smiles, petting your hair and cooing at you before returning to his previous pace fucking you.

"There we go..."

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[chuulyssa]

​​🇸​​ 🇵 ​​🇦 ​​🇳 ​​🇰​​ !

BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU SPANKING THEM.

↷ A/N ─ as usual please leave likes and reblogs to show support :D i love spoiling you guys !! now please tell me to go study i need some motivation :(

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ spanking, mentions of smut

MATURE THEMES, 16+, MENTIONS OF AND IMPLIED SMUT

*spanks*

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

momentarily surprised but quickly recovers

smiles and turns to you

it's like you just gave him a treat :D you can almost see his tail wagging as if he's a dog (he hates dogs btw grrr)

he believes that you spanking his ass gives HIM permission to do the same to YOU :( how mean of him

so he catches you off guard by spanking your ass

and you two end up chasing each other down to take turns spanking each other. whoever loses does the dishes tonight

"You've been very good today; you even completed your punishment for provoking me," he says, engulfing you in a cuddle after you returned from doing the dishes.

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

chokes on air this time (yes chuuya chokes in every single scenario of mine but he's the one choking you at night so its ok !! :D)

he's surprised because wtf?? he's the one supposed to be doing that conventionally????

defo spanks you back but tries to be as soft as possible because he's a gentleman

i think this is already an hc but he's an ass guy so once you've spanked him don't think he's gonna leave u at all

i did say his spanks are gonna be as soft as he can make them be but i never said how many 🤪😇

"Count," he hisses. It's midnight, and you're at his mercy. After his long and hard day at work, he needs something to relieve his stress.

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

stops your hand mid-air because duh he already knew about what you were gonna do

twists and turns and ends up holding your ass and squeezing it

all the while you're like wtf is wrong with you

his eyes make it look like he's enjoying it sm :( such a kitty cat

im still mad they didn't give us a whole separate scene for his ass :< anyone who's read the manga, any pics you wanna share? 👁

"You need to buy me extra candy for putting up with your stupidity," he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek.

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

his reflexes immediately act and you see rashomon from the back of his coat

but then he realizes its you...

and he FLUSHES. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN BLUSH

well now you have :D his poor virgin ass

not a virgin anymore once he started dating you u horny ass mf /lh

he has literally no idea how to reply to that

he just shrugs cluelessly

"I guess I should return the favour?" he tries to sound confident but ends up delivering the lightest, most gentle spank. He doesn't want to hurt you. He loves you.

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

DISGUSTED™

one, because he's another virgin (virgin slander less gaurr 💪🏻 even tho im one myself; its the self burn guys !!)

and two, for the last time STOP. MESSING. WITH. HIS. RELIGIOUS. SELF.

you're SATAN in his eyes, trying to distract him and make him sin (as if he isn't a murderer and a terrorist cough cough)

if we're being delusional enough he'll leave the room with a faint pink on his cheeks 🤡

definitely returns the favour at night 🤭🤭 (only if you're married tho!!)

"My sole undivided attention is all yours now," he hits your ass again. "Anything to say? Hm? Why not? You were all for giggling at my face today. What's wrong now?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

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[wyvernest]

would you be able to write something about chubby!reader having body issues and thinks she doesn’t deserve miguel because he’s so sculpted and beautiful, but miguel reminds her how perfect she is? (in whatever way you think is best)

i just love reading these types of fics and they really help boost my confidence 🥹

tysm! <3

hope you like it<3

aphrodite

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, body dysmorphia

summary: you start feeling self conscious right before your date, and miguel isn't having any of it

translations are at the end

Miguel had finally made time to take you out. You are well aware of the fact that he is a busy man, and had decided against pressuring him to abandon his work overtime.

But tonight was for you. He had planned out the perfect date, from the restaurant, reservations, to the tiniest details; what day would be best in terms of weather, your job, and his duties. 

To say you were overwhelmed with excitement was an understatement. He had always been so caring and considerate, looking for ways to make you feel valued and appreciated even when time itself stood against his efforts. Finding unadulterated joy in asking you out like it was your first time getting closer to each other over and over again, the 'honeymoon phase' spark never once leaving your relationship, contrary to popular belief.

And so here you are, in your shared home, getting ready for yet another date with the most handsome man you've ever seen. 

He's already fully dressed, fixing himself in the mirror. His black suit sits oh-so perfectly on him, hugging the shape of his large back and shoulders, tight enough around his biceps, so that they still bulge through the material when he brings a hand up in his hair to tame some dark strands that had fallen out of place. It accentuates the line of his abdomen, having his large thighs finish off the whole look. 

He stands in front of the bedroom mirror, in his striking royal height, the man that ancient Greeks probably had as a muse when they sculpted the ideals of the male body. His dark, cocoa brown hair is brushed back, silky and soft. His perfectly contoured face is dimly lit by the low, warm bedroom lights, his features prominent: the bridge and line of his nose, squinted piercing eyes along with a downright intimidating set of brows His sharp jaw is held up high while he works with his tie, expert hands skillfully experimenting around an array of various knots, pondering upon which fits best.

He truly is quite the sight, you melt at the tableau before you, holding back a sigh seasoned with nothing but the very heights of being irrevocably enamoured.

His whole presence screams strength and mature dominance, with a hint of incontestable luxury.

Resuming your own outfit, your own body still only adorned in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra, you head to the closet for the one dress you have been imagining yourself in for the whole week since he offered you the invitation. You couldn’t be more excited to finally try it on and admire yourself with it, have people look your way while wearing it, with an arm hooked around the one and only Miguel O’Hara. 

Putting it on and adjusting its stretchy fabric over your curves, your smile starts to fade. This isn’t what it looked like the first time I tried it on, you mentally conclude, and the more you look at it, the more things you wish you hadn’t noticed. You pull at the material, the hem, the sides, the neckline, anything you can think of that maybe, just maybe, could fix it. Panic starts to drip into your nerves, what will you do now if it just won’t look good? Screw it and go out with it anyway, and then feel all eyes on you for the rest of the evening? What will people think when they see you, merely decent, next to him? And otherwise, what other option is there? To pick some other dress that can’t possibly be more appropriate for the occasion, since you had bought this one specifically for the place you’re going, and still not look the part?

Your breathing starts to quicken as you keep fumbling with the textile around your shape, attention half directed to the open wardrobe, scanning every shelf and hanger for a second option. 

Suddenly, the floor creaks, bringing the echo of incoming footsteps. And there he is, standing behind you, hands on your tense shoulders. You almost despise the image before you; his impeccable, calm and stoic image, next to you, discouraged and deeply insecure in evident comparison.

“What were you thinking about just now?” his words river down over the shell of your ear on a hot breath that has shivers shot down your spine.

“Nothing, I’m getting ready”, you cover it up in a sing-song voice, not wanting to dig deeper into letting him know that you don’t deem yourself pretty enough for him, let alone expect him to find you more attractive than you do yourself. Unfortunately, he’s too smart for your little diversion.

“Don’t lie to me.”, his tone serious, voice deep. His eyes rank up and down your body in the mirror, and you feel an acute need to just disappear. “Que guapa.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you feel rosy heat rise to your face.

Your mouth speaks before you think.

“Does it look good?”, he senses the hesitancy in your voice.

“Baby, you’d look like a goddess wearing a potato sack.” he speaks matter-of-factly, as if his statement equals water is wet, the honesty in his declaration evident with the speed with which the words left his mouth. You can’t help but let a giggle break through your disconcerted face, surprised with the association.

“What, like Marilyn Monroe?”

“No, mi alma, like you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you back into his embrace as you look at eachother in the reflection before you. His expression softens, visibly relaxed and happy to have you close to him. 

“These curves, every part of you, I know them as I know myself.” His palms slide over your hips, and all the way back up to your shoulders, effectively chasing away any hint of doubt and worry, cleansing you of anything that isn’t love.

“Eres la mujer de mis sueños.” He bends down, his lips reaching the crook of your neck. “No hay nadie como tú."

You let yourself fall back into his tempting embrace, knowing that he’s exploiting your weakness for him speaking Spanish so low and deep into the vulnerable skin of your pulse point, completely forgetting about the date and the dress. 

“And if you don’t like the dress, I’ll gladly rip it off.” He exhibits his talons as a warning, the curved edges of the claws grazing your bare shoulders intently. “If anything, the dress isn’t good enough to be worn by you.”

translations:

que guapa - how beautiful

mi alma - my soul

eres la mujer de mis sueños - you're the woman of my dreams

no hay nadie como tú - there is no one like you

a/n: again, if any native speakers see anything wrong with my Spanish please let me know🤍

[cloudypariah]

How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent. 

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room. 

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

 A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

[thef1diary]

hiii could u write a danny or carlos fic based on mess it up by gracie abrams? maybe smtg angsty w happy ending ??

Self Sabotage | D. Ricciardo

Summary: you leave Daniel because things are going too well, but you realize it's the worst decision you've ever made.

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

masterlist taglist form

Warnings: angst, insecurity (on reader's end), negative thoughts, allusion to childhood trauma, mention of failed past relationships, lil bit of fluff/comfort.

wc: 2.2k

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things had been well between you and Daniel, in fact it was going too well that it worried you.

You believed that there would be a day where Daniel would show his true colours; prove that every promise, every gesture of love he made was nothing but a lie.

That day never came. He loved you endlessly, showering you in gifts and affirmations which only deepened your fear.

Opened two double doors

Despite Daniel's unwavering love and sincerity, you couldn't shake the feeling that you didn't deserve such happiness. Deep-seated insecurities gnawed at you, whispering that it was only a matter of time before you ruined everything.

Unable to bear the weight of your own self-doubt, you made the painful decision to push Daniel away before he could discover the flaws you believed defined you.

Typical, pretty sure I could grow up

With a heavy heart, you packed your belongings in silence, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with each item you carefully placed in boxes. As you moved through the rooms of your shared home, memories flooded your mind, each corner holding echoes of laughter, whispered promises, and tender moments shared with Daniel. The emptiness of the space around you mirrored the ache in your chest as you realized what you were about to leave behind.

With Daniel away, you found solace in the solitude of your departure, sparing both of you the agony of a tearful goodbye. Each item packed was a step closer to severing the ties that bound you together, a painful but necessary act of self-preservation.

Probably chemical

As you closed the door behind you for the last time, the weight of your decision settled over you like a shroud, leaving behind a home that once held the promise of a future you were no longer sure you deserved.

Driving away from the home you once shared with Daniel, tears blurred your vision as you navigated the familiar streets, each turn carrying you further from the life you had built together. The radio played softly in the background, a bittersweet soundtrack to your departure, as memories of happier times intertwined with the ache of loss.

I took up walking to turn it all off

Despite the pain, a small voice inside whispered that you were doing the right thing, that by leaving, you were sparing Daniel the burden of loving someone who couldn't love themselves. Yet, even as you tried to convince yourself that this was for the best, doubt crept in, casting shadows of regret over your decision.

You grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you navigate the familiar streets. Glancing at the passenger seat, you see a photo of you and your boyfriend, smiling blissfully. It feels like a mockery now, a reminder of what you shattered.

Doesn't feel bearable

With a huff, you turned it over so you don't see his handsome smile staring back at you that always led you right into his arms, his laugh that was contagious enough to make you laugh as well.

You couldn't stop thinking about him or all the reasons you fell in love with him. He was perfect and unfortunately you didn't believe that you were enough for him.

Guess I thought when I left it would all stop

Opening the window, you let the breeze gather your thoughts and whisk them all away, both negative and positive. All you knew was that you had to leave him because it was good for him. He could find someone better than you, much better.

Your phone buzzes, his name flashing on the screen. You hesitate before answering, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Hey," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hmm, it would all stop

"Hey, babe! What are you up to?" His voice is filled with warmth, but you can't shake the guilt building inside you.

"Nothing, just hanging about, you know how it is without you," you reply, forcing a smile you know he can't see.

"You sound a bit off. Is everything okay?" Concern colors his words.

When I told you "I'm fine", you were lied to

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just tired from the day, I guess," you lie, the weight of your deceit heavy on your chest.

"Okay, well, I miss you. I can't wait to get back to you," he says, his longing evident in his voice.

"I miss you too," you reply, feeling the sting of your betrayal with every word. You did truly miss him and you know that you would miss him even more as time would go on.

How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?

As you hang up the phone, you're consumed by guilt. You know what you're doing is wrong, but you can't stop now.

You continue driving, the weight of your decision bearing down on you with each passing mile. The road stretches endlessly ahead, mirroring the uncertainty gnawing at your conscience.

'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up

Daniel's words echo in your mind, his longing for you palpable even through the phone. You can't shake the image of his face, filled with love and trust, oblivious to the lie you've just told him.

Even with the music and open windows, the car still becomes suffocating. You steal another glance at the photo frame you flipped over on the passenger seat, your heart twisting with guilt.

Funny that didn't work

A sudden urge to turn back grips you, but you push it aside. It's too late now, you tell yourself. You've made your choice.

Half an hour passes, the landscape blurring into a haze of regret and doubt. Your mind races with what-ifs and maybes, each one a dagger to your already wounded conscience and heart.

Suddenly, your phone rings again, jolting you out of your thoughts. Daniel's name flashes on the screen, but this time you don't pick up his call.

I could be anywhere, I'm on your block

"I'm sorry, Daniel," you whisper, turning off your phone so you don't see another call or text from him.

A wave of sadness washes over you, mingled with a tinge of guilt. Despite knowing deep down that leaving Daniel was the right decision for both of you, it doesn't make the pain any easier to bear.

Cynical, terrible

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands as you focus on the road ahead. Each mile feels like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.

Memories of your time with Daniel flood your mind – the laughter, the shared dreams, the moments of pure joy that you thought would last forever. But somewhere along the way, the cracks began to form, the doubts and insecurities creeping in your mind until it threatened to consume you both.

Kicking myself with my gut in a knot

As you drive further and further away from him, you can't help but wonder if you've made a mistake. What if you're throwing away the best thing that ever happened to you? What if you'll never find someone who understands you the way Daniel did?

But then you remember the tears you shed, the sleepless nights spent without him, agonizing over whether to stay or go. You remember the feeling of suffocation, of being trapped in a relationship that was slowly suffocating you purely because you never felt such love before. Instead of accepting it, or at least telling him about it, you chose to endure it until it became unbearable.

'Cause I heard that you're happier

Perhaps you couldn't find someone better than Daniel, he was truly one of the best ones. But that thought didn't deter you away from your decision because you were the one always causing problems, always letting your own thoughts become the reason to end a relationship.

As you drive on into the night, you realize that leaving Daniel was the only way to save him from you. It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't painless, but you know in your heart that it was the right thing to do.

Hope that you're sleeping well knowing I'm not

In the weeks following the breakup, a sense of emptiness settled over you like a heavy fog, each day passing in a blur of regret and longing. As you reflected on what had led you to push Daniel away, you couldn't escape the realization that your own insecurities and past traumas had played a significant role in sabotaging the one good thing in your life.

Memories of past relationships haunted your thoughts, whispering tales of betrayal and heartbreak, leaving you unable to fully trust in the love Daniel offered so freely. Childhood wounds, buried deep beneath layers of self-preservation, resurfaced with a vengeance, casting doubt on your worthiness of happiness.

I'm doing too much, hmm

In the quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself grappling with the harsh reality of your actions, longing to turn back the hands of time and undo the damage you had wrought. With each passing day, the weight of regret grew heavier, until it became too much to bear.

He called many times when you finally turned your phone on, but you were too much of a coward to reply to any of his messages. You could tell he was hurt based on the voicemails he left, asking what he did wrong for you to leave abruptly. Daniel had wanted to surprise you by coming home a day early, and you ruined it by not being there.

Did I fall out of line when I called you?

Just like you ruined everything else in your life. You cried yourself to sleep that night, lulling yourself by playing his voicemails over and over again because despite his tone revealing he cried, he still loved you.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, you sought out Daniel, driven by an overwhelming need to make amends, to lay bare the truth of your fears and insecurities.

When I told you "I'm fine"

You stood on the step in front of the house you once called yours, and if everything went well, it would be yours again along with his.

Daniel opened the door, shock covering his features. He gazed at you from head to toe, checking if you were injured but once he was satisfied, his gaze hardened as it connected with yours.

"Daniel," you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you stood before him, "I need to talk to you."

You were lied to

Noticing the hesitation in your tone, his eyes softened, finally coming to a realization that you were truly standing in front of him after being left alone for weeks.

"What happened?" he asked, concern lacing his words. He itched to touch you, to hold you, but he needed to know your stance on your relationship.

How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I made a mistake. I let my fears get the best of me, and I pushed you away."

Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Ignoring the voice in his head to stay away, he pulled you closer, hugging you and sighing as he found relief by having you in his arms.

I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in

"Why did you push me away? We could've talked," he muttered as he felt your tears wetting the crook of his neck. "It's... it's complicated," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion.

He pulled back, "did I do something?"

You quickly shook your head, "no, you're perfect. I got scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of letting someone in only to be left broken and alone. But I see now that I let my past dictate my future, and I lost sight of what truly mattered, how much you mattered."

We can make it better, breaking every habit

Silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your confession filling the space between your hearts. Then, finally, Daniel spoke, his voice soft but filled with pain. "I don't understand why you didn't talk to me about this sooner," he said, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"I was afraid," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Afraid that if I opened up to you, you would see the broken pieces of me and walk away. But now I realize that keeping you at arm's length was the biggest mistake of my life."

Pull myself together, you could watch it happen

Daniel reached out, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "I love you, flaws and all. But we need to work through this together, okay?"

With a trembling smile, you nodded, feeling the weight of his words lift the burden from your shoulders.

In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, guided by the light of love and forgiveness.

Let it happen, let it happen

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @xoxonoire

[htchnr]

★ gentle hands ❥ A. HOTCHNER.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

CW ➥ reader has issues with eating ⋆ very brief mention of an alcohol problem ⋆ mention of binge eating or not eating ⋆ sweet and sappy comfort fic ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1,3k. SONG ➥ chocolate mint , duster.

SUMMARY ➥ you've always had issues with food, you either eat too much, or not enough, or not at all. you've always struggled with it yourself, but now that you live together with Aaron it's a little difficult to avoid or hide. so when you tell him about your struggles, he comforts you. as requested by an anon, but i lost the ask 😭

AUTHORS NOTE ➥ i'm getting a little bit better! still feel like i've got the flu, but i've atleast been able to concentrate on writing a request! 😁 i'm gonna try my best to finish up the remaining Kinktober posts, those will at the very least be all done before the end of November!

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

you rolled on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tightened your jaw. the clock had briefly flashed 3:28AM when you moved. your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

the urge to eat something was so overbearingly painful. you weren't necessarily hungry, you just need something to eat. you've tried explaining it to therapists before, but it never came out the way it needed to. you've briefly talked about it with Morgan once, though ended up not continuing the conversation after you got a call about a case and left.

and you didn't want to bring it up with Aaron; he already worried about the smallest things, the tiny bad habits you had. Aaron was one of the best people you've met, but you felt like you only burdened him with your flaws. though if Aaron ever heard you say that, he'd crush you in a hug and force you to apologise. to yourself, for ever daring to think that you were a burden to him.

your fists clenched one more time before you sat up, rubbing your hands across your face in frustration. some nights food was comforting, other nights; like this night, it was a nuisance and it frustrated you so much, your self image took the bullet for it.

you carefully moved the blankets off of you, letting your feet quietly hit the cold wood floor of your bedroom. you glanced behind you at the figure in your bed; Aaron laid peacefully, the deep creases in his face looking more relaxed as he slept.

you brushed a hand through your hair as you quietly left the bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. you yawned as you pulled open the main cupboard where you kept most packaged foods like crackers, cookies, cereal etc. one hand holding the door, the other on the bare skin of your waist, you hadn't bothered putting anything else on beside the bralette and the pair of pyjama shorts you had worn to bed.

you hesitated, i should shut the door and just go back to bed, you thought to yourself. but your body moved on it's own accord, grabbing a box of cereal and two granola bars. your hold tightened around the bars, plastic crinkling in your grip before you set the items on the counter. you pulled open the fridge to grab the milk, and pulled out a rather large clean bowl from the dishwasher. you made a mental reminder to empty that out after you were done eating.

you poured the cereal into the bowl, hoping the sound didn't trigger Aaron and then twisted open the cap of the milk before pouring it in, the quiet 'crackle' of the cereal filling your ears.

you cracked open the dishwasher once more, grabbing a spoon and shoving it in the bowl, stirring and coating all the cereal in the milk. you took a bite, your tense form almost instantly relaxing a smidge as you chewed on the cereal. see? eating was a good idea. you stood facing the counter while you ate, stuck in your own headspace.

so much so that you hadn't noticed that Aaron had left the bedroom. you rather quickly finished the bowl of cereal, putting it down on the counter beside the sink. as you grabbed for one of the granola bars, a pair of warm, gentle hands slid around your waist and their fingers splayed across your stomach, followed by a pair of lips pressed against your bare shoulder.

"what are you doing up honey?" he asked quietly. he noticed the atmosphere the second he entered the kitchen. your hand tensed around the granola bar, before shoving it against the counter and letting it go. your frame was still tense, even against Aaron's warm body. you don't need the granola bar, you eat enough as it is.

you shook your head a second after Aaron's question. "it's nothing, i was just-" you paused. don't tell him, you'll just give him more to deal with. one side spoke. while the other side encouraged you to open up to him about this. "what's wrong? i can hear those brilliant gears turning. talk to me dear." he spoke endearingly, a slight tease to his tone, that left as soon as it came. you turned in Aaron's arms, your lower back now against the counter, the granola bars behind you as you faced Aaron's bare chest.

"it's nothing Aar, go back to bed.." you insisted, still not meeting his eyes.

Aaron's hold tightened a little on the swell of your hips before lifting one hand to tilt your chin up to face him. "i know when something's wrong, please just talk to me about it." he spoke in a tone a little higher than a whisper. he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"it's just that," you paused. are you doing this right now? "i," you suck in a breath. you couldn't seem to find the words now.

Aaron stroked your cheek. "hey, take your time." you encouraged you gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

you nodded, looking down at your hands. do it, come on. "i have a problem with eating." there, it wasn't that hard, was it? Aaron nodded lightly, prompting you to continue. "i, i either eat too much or nothing at all." Aaron's hand returned to your waist, his thumbs rubbing reassuring circles into the soft flesh.

this wasn't as hard as you made it out to be. "some nights i feel like the urge to eat is so strong, that it eats away at me until i eat. though i'm not always even hungry, i just, have to eat. that doesn't make sense does it?" you chuckle sadly, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his warm chest, your arms still hanging at your sides. "and some days, i just avoid food all together. it's like the feeling of eating makes me feel so sick? not necessarily physically sick, but mentally." you continue, a slight crack in your voice.

Aaron's heart breaks at your confession. he knew something was going on, but not that it ran this deep. "and some days, i just drink all day. being drunk blocks out all the issues with eating. either i eat a normal amount, or i don't really eat at all, but it takes the bad feelings about each away." you mumble. this is embarrassing. Aaron lowers one of his hands down to one of yours, intertwining his fingers gently with yours. your thumb fiddled around with his thick fingers.

"i'm sorry i'm laying this all on you i know-"

"hey, don't." he speaks, his voice still gentle and quiet, but more assertive. you look up at him. "don't be sorry about something you can't control. as for not talking to me about it, i'm not mad at you, i just wished you'd come to me with these things more often. i know you're struggling, but i have no way of helping you, or even just being there if i don't know what's going on in that gorgeous mind of yours."

tears well up in your eyes. Aaron's thumb coming up just before a tear rolls down, gentle wiping it away. "come to me when you feel like this okay? come to me when you're having one of those days where eating pains you, or when you crave to eat the whole day. i'm here for you okay honey? i'm here for you, no matter what." he's here to help you, so let him.

you nod, licking a tear off your lips. he wraps an arm fully around your soft bare waist, the other one wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you against him. your arms wrapping around his waist as you hold him tight. "thank you." your voice is muffled by his skin, but Aaron hears it. "i love you." you hold him tighter, pressing your face against his warm chest, the feeling of being held by him calming down any negative thoughts or feelings.

"i love you too." he whispers back, placing a firm kiss on the top of your head.

he pulls away, his thumb wiping away some tears. "do you want to eat something before we head back to bed?" he asks you, he had already spotted the granola bars behind you. you think for a second before nodding.

Aaron nods along, reaching for one of the bars behind you. he opens it, leaning away from you for just a second as he throws away the wrapper and hands you the bar. his hand wraps around yours as you take the bar from him, his thumb rubbing brief but gently against the back of your hand.

you eat the bar slowly, having Aaron stand in front of you calms the intensity of the craving. and when you're finished with the bar Aaron smiles. he leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck as you lean into it. Aaron leans down, his warm gentle hand sliding down your waist and hips until they reach the back of your thighs, pulling you up and into his arms. you wrap your thighs around his bare waist and lean your head on his shoulder as he carries you back to the bedroom.

tonight might've been conquered, but there's still many more nights and days to go. though, now they don't seem as dark and daunting..

[sugawarassoulmate]

it's samu's birthday 🥹 (and atsumu's but this isn't about him sksks)

words: 652 cw: fem!reader, sleepy sex, dubious consent, minors dni

"get off of me," he groans once again, making no effort to push you away. osamu won't admit that he's hard right now, cock pressed against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. it's all your fault, really. your small hands keep rubbing against him while you kiss the sensitive part of his neck.

he just wants to go to sleep.

you're straddling his lap, hand slipping under his sweats to wrap around his length. if osamu had been more awake right now, he'd probably question why you were being so forward with him. you're usually never like this—always so shy and timid, even after all this time.

but tonight's different, you're grinding on him and doing everything in your power to turn him on and it's fucking working. a long day at work left osamu's body sore and sweaty. after a shower, he dropped into your shared bed and didn't want to be disturbed.

of course, you came into the room at some point, ready to be a nuisance and giving osamu the sweetest kisses. he'd never complain about having your attention, but he just wants to fucking sleep. "yer this desperate fer me to fuck ya? can't it wait?" he asks, trying to hide the moans almost slipping from his mouth.

you were fully stroking him now, letting his precum ooze out so you could tease the head of his cock. he supposes that's what he gets for teaching you how to be his personal slut, you'd eventually use it against him.

"i can do all the work, samu," you mumbled, tugging his sweats down with your free hand just enough to pull his cock all the way out. his eyes are still closed, so he doesn't see the way you bite your lip upon seeing his thick length hit his stomach. "wanna make both of us feel good."

he shrugs, letting you do what you want with him. "don't expect me to help. ya want it so bad, better make sure both of us get off."

osamu expects you to suck him off or give him a handy and maybe after he cums, he'll be nice and eat you out. he knows his words are harsh but there's no way he'd leave his dumb baby high and dry.

but you go beyond his expectations when osamu feels the wet warmth of your cunt sinking down on his cock, easily stretching your walls until he's buried as deep as he can go. "fuck," he grunts, definitely not ready for any of that. "holy shit gimme some kind of fuckin' warnin' next time, idiot."

"sorry," you hum, waiting a few seconds before grinding your hips ever so slightly. how did you get so wet? were you really that desperate for him? does he need to pay more attention to you? you're fucking insatiable.

osamu grips the bed sheets, trying to keep his word and let you do everything, but it takes all of his will not to buck his hips into you. what has gotten into you? he's definitely not upset at this new side of you tonight, but it's so uncharacteristic. "shit, what's this fuckin' attitude of yers?" he whines, opening his eyes to see you bouncing on him—a sight he'll never get tired of.

"you really don't know, samu?" you giggle, easily creating a steady rhythm. you pull your shirt up, letting your tits bounce freely with every thrust. if osamu had the energy, he'd twirl the sensitive buds between his fingers. "look at the time…" you leaned down, changing the angle of osamu's cock inside you, and shove your phone in his face.

the bright light hurts his eyes, but he can clearly see the time. it's past midnight, october 5. oh, he thinks, another curse slipping out when your walls tighten around him.

"happy birthday, baby," you say against his lips. "let me be your gift."

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[snowsonlylove]

Dangerous Woman

a/n note: inspo is also from this delicious edit from topxzae on tiktok and this performance by ashley wagner. btw, i've switched my style of writing a bit and i've made it a bit more direct for i hope you don't mind + i was feeling a lil lazy so i did the sex scene in a third person pov.

Pairing: Captain!Hockey Player!Coriolanus Snow x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow have been in an established relationship for about 5 months. Lately, things have been very stressful for Coriolanus in his job as a captain of keeping everyone in line. Today is his day off and all he wants is to spend time with his girlfriend. What started out as a sweet catch up turned a lot spicier after Y/N noticed how her boyfriend looks at her. 

Fic Type: Smut (NSFW) 18+, Established relationship, Love struck Coryo, Reader slaying it on the ice (i’m kinda imagining her as an Alexandra Trusova kinda gal so do what you want with that info)

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this guys, use a condom. reader is on birth control), rough pushing, harsh, cunnilingus (female and male receiving), lmk if i missed anything else

Word Count: 1.9k

Inspo: Heavily inspired by Icebreaker (my newest obsession) and the stereotype in the skating world with hockey players looking at figure skaters when they practise (horny bf and gf edition). 

Disclaimer: Credits and the idea of this are based off Icebreaker so all credits go to Hannah Grace and her team. This is a spinoff of her idea turned into an established relationship version for Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Y/L/N.

Additional Info (ONLY FOR THOSE WHO HAVE READ ICEBREAKER): In this universe, there is no rivalry. All collegiate teams share the same rink and there is a bond with the hockey and the skating team prior to this occurrence.

I do not own Coriolanus Snow or Y/N Y/L/N (cuz it’s you, boo). All credits go to Suzanne Collins and her team. Song credits also go to Ariana Grande and her team. 

I do not allow my works to be republished or translated under any circumstances. Any instances of this happening and YOU WILL BE BLOCKEDDD. 

Also, ageless and empty blogs will be BLOCKED as this is a 18+ fic. Report my fics for no good reason and you’re blocked cuz if u don’t like it, LEAVEEEE.

Y/N and Coriolanus have been a strong couple for about 5 months now. With all that time passing, there must be some things they have learned about each other, as well as things they have not learned about each other. Weirdly enough, Coriolanus has never seen Y/N skate because of the divide in their schedule between the hockey team and figure skating team. 

Coriolanus is the captain of the collegiate Academy hockey team, which makes the job more difficult for him because of how hard he has to strangle and wrangle a bunch of frat guys to go on the ice and play. This leads to him trying to find his teammates a lot, which means that he doesn’t have time to see his girlfriend skate because by the time he gets there, Y/N’s already packing up her stuff and giving him a kiss goodbye before leaving. This frustrates him. However, it doesn’t look like it would be much of an issue going forward.

Lately, the team has been going on a losing streak. About 3/4 of the team are either high or drunk off their ass in college parties and it’s driving Coriolanus crazy as it’s making them lose. Their coach has demanded that they stop it, Coriolanus even putting it as a ban but it’s still not making the younger hockey members realise that. As a result, Coach Highbottom and Coriolanus have made a decision to make them sit on the bench and think about their actions, which works great for Coriolanus since it creates a window of space in which he can get more alone time and even show up earlier to watch his girlfriend practice.

Today was the day in which Coriolanus got his free time, so he chose to watch his girlfriend train for her test skates after getting them a small box of cronuts and a coffee for both him and girlfriend as a little date after her practice before she has to go back to her dorm to study.

Coriolanus strolled into the ice rink as if he owned it that day, confident in his strides as he didn’t show his excitement in seeing his girlfriend practice in fear of people seeing how weak he was for his girlfriend. As he walked to the stands by the rink, he saw his girlfriend glide across the rink as she stretched her hands in the most delicate way possible while practising her program with her coach looking at her intensely from the stands.

“More, Y/N! More!” “Straighten the back of the knee!” “Smile!” “Don’t be so sloppy!” Coach Gaul screamed from the side of the ice rink as Y/N glided past her to do her quad before doing her triple axel flawlessly. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the stand, looking at his girlfriend almost as if he was observing her before he suddenly heard a bunch of little giggles and laughs beside him as he turned to look at the bunch of junior girls who stopped their off-ice stretching to look at his girlfriend practising her program.

“She’s so pretty..” “Literally, how does she do that?” “Oh my god, her boyfriend is so hot, someone get me a hockey boyfriend please” “I wonder how big his d-” “Oh my god, Sasha! Don’t say that!” The girls whispered amongst each other as they giggled as if they were girls from middle school. Coriolanus smirked as he pretended to cough, making all the girls look at him horrified that they realised that he heard their conversation. They all walk away with their heads down as Coach Gaul’s assistant calls the girls to start their warm-ups on the ice, making Coriolanus smirk even harder.

Coriolanus walks towards the side of the rink as he puts his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants as he watches his girlfriend converse with her coach, waiting for feedback while he stands there, entranced by her beauty. As she glides back on the ice, Coriolanus feels himself getting hard as he watches her practise her routine with her hands behind her back, making his mind go crazy with the possibility of the things they could do. Mind you, by this point they’ve hooked up quite a few times.

As Y/N comes towards the end of her routine, she finally notices her boyfriend as she gives him a small wave before doing her final moves, her coach clapping on the side of the rink. “Good job, Y/N. There are some technical things we need to work on but you’ve improved. Now, go take your leave.” Y/N nods as she bids her coach goodbye before running towards her boyfriend and tackling him with a bone-crushing hug, her boyfriend hugging her back just as hard as she squeals, “I can't believe you’re here! I thought you were on an off-day with the guys today!” 

Coriolanus chuckles in a distracted way as he chides while stroking her hair, “Yeah, that’s true but the one thing I didn’t tell you was that I actually wanted to watch my darling skate today. How are you, sweetheart? Anything hurting? I brought us some donuts and coffee for breakfast?” Y/N groaned as she looked up at her boyfriend with a grateful smile, “You didn’t need to get me anything, love. I know you’ve been busy lately.. You know I’m all fine, right? I’m not a broken doll” She jokes as she raises her eyebrow, making her boyfriend smirk as he leaned down to give his girlfriend a peck on her lips before saying, “I know that, baby. But I was thinking we can do a little something as a treat for you doing so well in your practice so far.” He said in a dazed tone as he took a glance at her ass before giving it a slap, making Y/N glare at him from her current stance. Coriolanus’s dick got harder after hearing her groan as it reminded him of the several intimate interactions that he had with his girlfriend. Little did he know, Y/N saw his aching dick right as she came up to him, making the situation much more interesting as she noticed how he looked at her. Knowing how hard he’s been working, she wanted to give him a chance to relax after a long week of training. 

The tension between them got a little more heated after that slap as both Y/N’s and Coriolanus’s looked at each other in a much more sensual way, their eyes having a particular sheen over it before a cough from Y/N disrupted the moment. “Okay, then. Let me get my stuff from the locker. I’ll see you later, captain…” Y/N said as she turned around and walked away, her hips swaying just a bit more to tempt her boyfriend into joining her in the locker. Coriolanus immediately took notice of this as he followed her, Y/N stopping at one point to grab his hand and interlock his fingers with hers as they made their way to the locker. 

Thankfully, no one was in the locker by that time as all the skaters were on the rink preparing to start practising their programs. Y/N closed the door behind her as Coriolanus pinned her towards her door as he wrapped his hands in her hair and kissed her while her hands pressed up against his chest as she smiled into the kiss. Wet, squelching sounds echoed around the room as their tongues moulded against each other in perfect sequence as if they were made for each other. As they made out, they peeled off each other’s clothes slowly as they were wrapped up in this bubble where they were the only ones there and no one else existed.

By the time they pulled away from each other, they were both down to their underwear. Coriolanus crouched down as he peeled Y/N’s lacy red panties off her as licked a line up her slit, tasting the sweet nectar hidden under her skate wear as he hummed in satisfaction before sucking on her clit, making Y/N see stars as her moans echoed around the room. Y/N reached down to cradle her boyfriend’s head as he worked her up to a beautiful, soul-capturing orgasm, making her heave big sighs while coming down her high. 

Y/N and Coriolanus gave each other a deep kiss as she tasted herself on his tongue before it was her turn to kneel down and give his aching hardness the love that it deserves. She kissed her way down his abs as she pulled down his boxers, revealing his aching, hard dick leaking with pre-cum in all its glory. The veins were clearly invisible as Y/N hummed in satisfaction before she licked the tip of his dick, savouring the taste of his pre-cum as she moaned. She continued this a few times before she went deeper and deeper until her throat reached the base of his cock, making Coriolanus groan with great pleasure as she gagged occasionally and started to work him into an orgasm by pulling her head in and out of his dick in a once slow motion before building up her speed in a way she knew her boyfriend liked.

“Ugh, so good, baby… Keep doing that, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” Coriolanus groaned as he wrapped his hand around a bunch of her hair as he guided her in and out of his dick. His groans and her moans echoed around the room as the atmosphere got dirtier before Coriolanus pushed her head closer than it’s ever been before he came with one final groan, making Y/N moan even louder at seeing his satisfaction in her efforts to please him.

As Coriolanus came down from his orgasm, Y/N pulled her mouth off him as she wiped her mouth clean of her saliva before jutting out her tongue, letting him see that she swallowed it all before she laughed a little at her boyfriend’s dark glance at her. Coriolanus’s head turned around to the side as his groan this time was animalistic as he grabbed his girlfriend from her place on her knees before him and smashed his lips with her before he turned her around and pushed her towards the door before shoving his now hard length into her in one thrust. 

Both Y/N and Coriolanus let out a groan as they wrapped their arms around each other as he pushed his dick in and out of her pussy as her ass bounced back towards his dick with her force. The room now echoed with the sound of skin slapping around it, along with her louder moans and his harsher groans as he turned her face to the side before capturing her lips in another searing kiss as they both come with him holding her tits in his hands and bringing her as close to him as possible.

Y/N and Coriolanus breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric orgasm. Coriolanus cradled Y/N’s face as he leaned in and captured her lips in little kisses as he checked over her to see if she was okay. After making sure she was okay, he grabbed a bunch of tissue paper as he cleaned them up before he helped her pack up her skating luggage before they opened the door and left the rink wrapped up in each other’s love. Little did they know, both Coach Gaul and her assistant were staring at them appalled as they overheard them while going to the bathroom a while ago. 

[kryptznnn]

♛- PLAY-HARD I

1st part/ 2nd part (Mature Audience Community Label)

Series Masterlist ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

➳ INTERESTS; - olo’eyktan!jake x fem!omatikayan reader

➳ BACKGROUND; - working alongside Mo’at has helped you and your family in various ways, as a way to repay her for your free working she pairs you along side Toruk Makto to aid him in small departments he needs assistance in, but more importantly to find a Tsahik suitable for the Olo’eyktan, but he isn’t always cooperative.

➳ WARNINGS; - 3.1k wc slight age gap (25 and 21), takes place after the great war, eventual smut, slow burn, sexual tension, use of alcohol, vomiting (mentioned once), wet kisses, hickies, jealousy, power imbalance, pet names, fluff, bit of angst if you squint, nipple!play, slight p!play.

➳a.i; first fic i’m very very nervous, but i hope u all enjoy ^^, i take requests so just hit my inbox 🌸

*na’vi translation will be provided*

Mo’at was not joking when she spoke of Jake Sully and his stubbornness, the reason why she decided you’d be a perfect aid is due to your patience, which was running very thin at the moment.

“I’m here to assist you, but i cannot do my job if you refuse to go against my requests.” you stated sharply, his ears pinned against his hair and his lips tightened into a straight line, he simply crossed his arms. This was the 3rd date you’d set up for him that he’s rejected.

Not the first, or the second, but the third time. To make matters worse whenever you’d complain to Mo’at she’d simply tell you to just push a little farther.

“I told you I didn’t like her” he said sternly, repeating the same statement he has for the past 2 weeks. “skxawng, [moron] you’ve said the same thing for the other 2 na’vi i’ve tried to pair you with, do not be selfish, think of the future of our people-“

“That’s all I think about y/n, I might be many things but selfish isn’t one of’em. You can’t just force someone with me, if im going to be with some girl for the rest of my life at least let me make my own decision.” He quickly cut you off, now unfolding his arms and placing a hand at his side, eyeing you up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t make any good points, if you were in his place you’d be more than frustrated, but regardless you’re job here was to help and provide for the olo’eyktan, which is exactly what you were going to do.

“Mr. Sully, please-“

“Jake. It’s jake kid” He buds in, smiling softly.

“Jake, I understand what you’re saying and how you feel, but part of my job is providing, and what i’m doing is providing for you and your future” You correct yourself, giving him a pleading look, searching in his eyes for a look of understanding, which you soon found. He relaxed a bit and wasn’t as tense as before, nodding in approval. You quickly smiled, thankful this situation didn’t have to escalate to a serious argument like it has before hand. Those times were the worst times for the both of you, and thankfully you’ve both been able to talk them out and set boundaries and learn from past mistakes, if anything Mo’at would repeat how times like those strengthens the relationship you two share, and she wasn’t wrong.

“m’sorry” He said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear, rubbing his hands together and sitting down, his tail curling up beside him with his head down. “syeha si tam [breathe, it’s okay], you have nothing to apologize for, i’m sorry too, the position you’re in isn’t easy, trust me I know” you said calmly, slowly walking over to him, just for him to open up his arms. You slowly walked over to him, quickly embracing him just for him to do the same with you. You sighed and smiled softly, your head resting on his.

Come to think of it Jake was always a physical kind of person, “touchy” is what the term is. Whenever things would go wrong with him or the clan he would drain out quickly, before he didn’t have anyone to rely on, not a friend close enough for him to talk to so he would create a relationship with Mo’at, asking her for advice and methods to aid him, right before he came across you. You would be seated with Mo’at, mixing herbs for her while listening to their conversations, on specific days jake would speak about certain na’vi women attempting to court him, which made you giggle when you first heard it

“Who is she?” Jake asked quickly glancing over at you, as you quickly covered your mouth to stop any other laughter. Mo’at turned to you and back at Jake softly smiling. “Her name is y/n, I love her like a daughter of mine,she’s been under my arm for the past 12 years” She said proudly, Jake nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of you, watching as you walked over and stood beside Mo’at.

“Ohe ahasey sa’nok” [I’ve finished mother] You said, placing the bowl in Mo’at’s hands, smiling at her, she thanked you and introduced you to Jake. “Te suli, this is y/n, y/n this is tsyeyk suli, our olo’ektyan” She stated, directing her hand to you than back to jake. You quickly signed the “I see you” gesture saying “Oel ngati kameie” as he nodded and repeated the same action. You looked him in his eyes, just to realize he was looking at you this whole time, you quickly looked to the side and began to distract yourself.

He had such an intense gaze, does he look at everyone like that? You asked yourself, your tail thrashing back and forth recalling the scene that happened just seconds ago.

“If you need extra assistance I can always have y/n accompany you, she’s always wanted to to explore other fields of work, I think she could help you a lot” Mo’at spoke soothingly, placing the bowl you gave her down and adding bandages to it. Jake continued to watch you, listening to Mo’at’s words carefully, still grinning ear to ear.

“I’d love that” He said, slowly standing up to take his leave.

That was 4 months ago, since then Jake has been very open with you, always in need of a hug and consolidation, which you were happy to give. Although it was painful how often you’d have to remind yourself not to mix pleasure and business, you’re helping you’re olo’ektyan, he’s just worn out and exhausted. Surely tonight would help him, deeming the celebration would be in his favor, celebrating his successful raid with his party and no injuries or casualties were gained.

“I’ll see you tonight?” He asked,slowly releasing you from his grasp and looking up at you, you just looked down at him smiling and nodding softly. “Of course, just don’t expect me to be there early, i’ll be coming with Za’yukto” You said, slowly backing up ready to leave, jake quickly grabbed your hand as soon as you turned around.

“Who is that?” He asked, you turned to face him to see his demeanor quickly changed. His jaw had clenched and his grip on your hand was getting tighter by the second. “Just a friend of mine, he didn’t want to go alone so I volunteered to take him, just for a while” You said harmlessly, he tilted his head, looking at you up and down before responding. He opened his mouth just to slowly close is and take a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you. “Just… just don’t be too late okay? I’ll be waiting for you” He said softly, his ears lowering slightly as he let go of your hand.

“Of course, and if you ever get too bored you can talk to all of your other friends there” You joked, quickly getting your belongings and leaving shortly.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You glanced in your small reflection for a final time before leaving your small hut. You haven’t done much to your appearance other than brushing out your braids and changing your purple beaded top to a red one, you’ve always liked how the colors looked on you.

This’ll do. You thought, it was too late to turn back and change now, you’ve already gone so far anyway. You looked pleasant, eye-catching, which was the exact look you were hoping for, hopefully you’d get someone to look at you during tonight’s celebration, or maybe a specific someone. Of course that specific someone being non other than J-

“Y/N!! Are you here?” You stopped dead in your tracks quickly walking over to the entrance of your hut.

That’s Za’yukto’s voice. “Hi, sorry, ohe am lonu to sìltsan” [I’m ready to go] You stated, stepping outside and quickly setting down the entrance of your hut with a smile, looking up at him. He smiled in response and complimented you, to which you thanked him and began making your way to the spirit tree for the celebration.

Soon after you two arrived, you quickly began to adjust your top, brush off your loincloth and hair, saying your goodbyes to Za’yu as you made your way to look for Jake, thankfully finding him quickly-

He’s with someone, you thought, seeing him off to the side laughing with a large drink in his hand, obviously being alcohol, of course stronger than any human substances and yet tasting even sweeter than anything you’ve ever had before. Seeing him happy like that did nothing more than make you smile a bit, he’s been stressed lately, he needs some sort of release. You quickly walk to the side getting closer to him just to see he’s doing more than just talking.

More than just laughing, and not with any someone, with a woman.

And he’s…. he’s kissing her? They’re kissing, they’re definitely kissing, and he’s not kissing just any woman, it’s the first na’vi you ever brought towards him to consider that he immediately rejected, simply telling you “There’s nothing special about her”.

Ewya.

You didn’t even bother making your way over to him, you’d already seen enough, feeling your face heat up out of sheer embarrassment and your eyes beginning to burn. On one swift motion you turn around to find Za’yu and to your surprise he already had a large cup waiting for you. You quickly grabbed it and chugged it down, your face immediately going from a sour look to more relaxed.

“Syeha si y/n!!” [Breathe y/n!!] Za’yu said, quickly taking the now empty cup from your hands as you just smiled at him. “I’m fine, come dance with me?” you asked, holding his hand. He just shook his head and placed the cups down on a table beside him, quickly taking you to the center of the dancefloor and began dancing with you in his arms.

This is a party, a place to let loose and celebrate, and that’s exactly what you planned on doing. You hooked your arms around Za’yu’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer, and looking at him intensely. You’d be lying if you said Za’yu wasn’t attractive, he was insanely attractive and overall perfect, everything a woman would look for in a man, he was skilled, intelligent, good looking, and strong? A complete package. Especially with the fact he’s such a gentleman, that’s what triggered your friendship so quickly.

He looked down at you, his hands traveling from your back to your waist, grinning at you. You slowly pushed yourself up against his body, feeling your beaded top clink against his broad chest. You slowly climb up on your tippy toes closer and closer to his face, as he too moves in closer, just for you to reach towards his ear and kiss it.

“Can you get me another drink please? I’m so thirsty” You ask him playfully, rubbing your 4 fingers against your throat slowly, licking your lips at him. He nodded and reached down to your collarbone, kissing it softly before leaving to get you a drink.

Soon after dancing by yourself you feel a hand rest on your stomach and trail down to your pelvis, holding you securely as your back rests on his back, you lift your head up quickly to see Za’yu, with your drink in his hand as he smiled down at you. You slowly got onto your tippy toes and kissed him, just to taste residue of alcohol that he previously consumed, smiling at the sweet taste, and taking the cup from his hands and quickly finishing it, dropping the cup and turning to face him, kissing him again.

Honestly at this state you’re wondering where jake was, if he was enjoying himself with his dick probably down that girls throat, but at the same time you were too fucked out and having way too much fun to care. Your shared kisses with Za’yu quickly became more intimate and more active, exchanging saliva and practically moaning into his mouth while still dancing, now slowly beginning to grind yourself onto him.

“Za’yu-“ You moaned softly against his lips, barely being able to catch your breath. “I know tìyawn, I know, mawepey” [I know love, I know, be patient] He said softly, his kisses trailing from your lips to your jawline and down to your neck, beginning to suck on you softly.

You rested your hand on the back of his neck, slowly playing with his hair and mewling softly, your ears perked up and your tail curling around your leg. He continued however, lowering down to your collarbone, kissing it softly before continuing his assault.

“ ‘Yu, can w- can we go back to my place? Please” You whimper softly, as he slowly moves his head up to look at you, kissing you softly. “Whatever you want y/n”. He said, quickly going to hold your hand, just as you turn around someone crashes into you spilling their drink all over you.

Of course it was none other than Ninat, whos throat Jake was previously shoving his tongue down. “Shouldn’t you be all on the olo’ektyan?” You muttered quietly, thankful no one heard you. Before listening to her pleads and apologies you simply just shoved past her, clinging onto Za’yukto tightly. “Don’t worry we’ll get you cleaned up, come on” He said.

Soon enough you both arrived to your hut , walking straight into the back of your hut and dragging him along, to which he quickly obliged. You stepped into the small pond behind your hut and began removing your strained top and loincloth, ushering him to do the same, which he quickly did.

“I’m going to clean you up first” He said, smiling down at you and grabbing a nearby rag to wipe any access alcohol off of you. He was gentle and caring, he only looked above your collarbone and refused to look lower, to make sure ‘you felt comfortable’ was his excuse, you found his caring and respectful nature cute though, knowing there were a lot of navi men out there who would not do the same. You just helped guide his hand to where he had to clean off until he kissed you again, letting his hands trail up from your waist to your soft breasts.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly, looking in your eyes for complete confirmation, to which you nodded and smiled in response. He let his fingers graze against your nipples a few times before toying with you, lowering his head before taking your left breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue onto your nipple, making you moan softly, quickly gripping onto the back of his hair softly. “That’s not the only place that needs attention, i’m still dirty elsewhere” You teased, he looked up at you repositioning himself, giving you a cocky look before answering.

“Oh yeah? Where would that be?” He asked, you quickly took his hand to show him, hovering over your stomach, but before you could continue a wave of sickness hit you, making you pause. Za’yu quickly took notice of this and how your expression changed. “Hey, what’s wrong what happened” He asked, now completely serious as you now grabbed onto his shoulder for support. “I feel a little sick” You managed to make out weakly, he quickly finished cleaning you off and immediately got you out of the small pond, drying you up and taking you inside to get you into something, but not before you threw up on the side of the mossy ground twice before crying.

“It hurts” You said, your voice hoarse and dry, which reminded Za’yukto to get you some water, he instructed for you to stay in your room and get dressed as he fetched you something to drink along with a small herb to help with the burning of your throat.

You quickly got changed, sitting patiently for Za’yu, and he soon came telling you to swallow one of your own handmade herbal medicine and a glass of water behind it, which you did. “You need to get some rest, you’ve had a long night” He said, placing his hand onto your shoulder, rubbing it softly and smiling at you. You didn’t respond, only placing the glass down and sprawling yourself against your bed, your back now facing Za’yu.

A moment of silence has passed, he hasn’t left and you haven’t fallen asleep yet, why is he still-

“I’ll stop by tomorrow to check up on you” He quickly stated, interrupting your thoughts, you don’t answer and he takes the silence as a sign you must be asleep, big mistake.

“Hopefully tonight didn’t change anything within our friendship, i’m not looking for a mate or to court anyone now, it was never my intention to move so quickly with you” He mumbled, but loud enough for you to hear, and shift in the bed as a response, you waited to hear the flap of your hut close before letting the tears in your eyes roll out over your nose and stain your bed.

This was going to be such a long night, and tomorrow morning even longer.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Baby Blues

Pairing: John Price x Female Reader

Synopsis: The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnaped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: allusions to intimacy, kidnapping, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluff

A/N: The lack of John fics is saddening to the degree that I’ve been forced to write one myself. Don’t expect anything good, in fact, I think everything I've written is horrible, but this is the only way the voices in my head would shut up. Enjoy.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You suppose that you’ll never fully recall what happened after the front door got busted off its hinges, but the events leading up to the heart-stopping instance are more clear than crystal.

Just that morning you had woken up to an empty bed for the sixth day in a row, light streaming in from behind the drawn curtains. Your chest had been tight as you stretched your arms above your head; attempting to shake the fatigue from your body that you knew wouldn’t leave. It was a shame you had fallen for a man who was gone so often and for so long – you never slept well without John by your side, and you missed his habit of drawing you into his strong chest while small mumbles would fall from his lips; nuzzling your hair. But, mostly, you missed drifting off to his heartbeat in your ear.

His hand on your thigh was the better version of a weighted blanket.

But now he was off somewhere that you didn’t have the privilege of knowing – he could be just down the street and you would be none the wiser – leaving you here in his home in London, adamantly waiting for him to return. You always waited, though, because John was someone worth waiting for. Even if he always came back to you with another bullet wound or a few stitched scrapes -- the point was that he came back at all. And that tired smile that overtook his lips when he saw you was reward enough, the wash of softness that spreads like a wave over the harshness of his eyes.

You couldn’t ask for a more perfect lover, even if the nights he was gone you were incredibly restless.

“I have to make breakfast,” Your lips part, a slow groan entering the bedroom as you shove back the covers, the small digital clock on the nightstand reading eight O’clock, “God, what I wouldn’t give for John’s pancakes right about now.”

When things had gotten serious between the two of you, it had come as a surprise that the Brit was insanely good at making breakfast foods. Now every time John left you he not only caused an absence in your shared bed but also in the kitchen.

Getting to your feet, you pad over to the bathroom, grabbing one of John’s large spare shirts and gray sweats on the way, pressing them to your nose as your eyes flicker at the scent of smoke and gunpowder. It was almost enough to make you slink back into bed, roll around in the covers, and press the fabric deep into your chest as you imagine John being there, fingers spayed out along your burning flesh.

Lord, you were so horrifically in love with the blue-eyed man that even the scent of him made you ache with need.

After taking a shower, staying in there for a long while, and praying the cold water washed away your heated thoughts, you dressed and went to quickly hobble down the hardwood hallway, gazing at the pictures on the walls as you pass them.

A smile quirks on your lips at the still image of you and John at the local military base, snapped by none other than Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick himself with his thumb slightly sticking out in the bottom right corner. It showed John gripping you tightly around the waist, staring down at you as his hulking frame dragged you into a hug; your arms were around his tapered waist, not minding the bulkiness of his combat vest at all as John’s iconic bucket hat sat on your head like a shimmering crown. You looked up at the bearded man like he was the only person in the world that mattered and, at that moment, he was.

Gaz had never let on that he had been taking pictures of the two of you for about a year until on your last birthday he handed you a collection in an envelope with a smirk directed at his Captain.

“You’re going to love this, Sir,” Kyle had said, and you both had watched in amusement as John’s face heated to a, you believed, adorable degree of red at the contents.

It was safe to say that every single picture that you had been given was framed and hung in every nook available in John’s house.

Finally making it to the kitchen, you settled on a simple egg sandwich with a side of steaming coffee – something that John would never be able to understand about you. He was always so adamant about having a cup of Earl Gray in the mornings that it was the cause of many amusing fake arguments and teasing.

Going to sit on the comfy leather loveseat next to the window, plate and cup in hand, your eyes lock onto a black van across the street, not even thinking about it until you had taken a sip of your drink with a sigh.

You blinked slowly, watching the shadows inside the tinted windows shift with a hitch in your chest.

“That’s strange,” Muttering under your breath, you take another slow sip and feel the heat of the coffee settle in your stomach; pooling with the small amount of paranoia that began to gradually build, “I don’t think Mrs. Rose was expecting anyone today – it’s Sunday – she’s off at church by now for Morning Mass.”

The neighbor, Mrs. Rose, was a kind old lady whose husband had been in the service years and years ago and the two of you had bonded over the fact. She often brought over sweets when she knew John was gone and you and her would trade stories to keep each other company and the lonely thoughts at bay.

Her husband had died three years ago, and, because of this, Mrs. Rose found comfort in religion. Sundays were always quiet around the neighborhood – no cars on the quiet street, no knocks on the front door, and no loud music from the younger neighbors that John always had to use his ‘Captain Voice’ on to get to quiet down. And, certainly, no strange black cars with moving shadows in the interior.

Rubbing at your fatigued eyes, you lightly tilt your head back to rest on the top of the loveseat, “John’s rubbing off on me too much, I’m going to be graying in no time if I keep this up. It’s just a damn car.” Just as you said those words the engine of the van rumbled to life, and no later the vehicle was rolling its way down the road and disappearing out of view.

You nod your head, trying to prove to yourself that you had been right to think nothing of the small disruption to your Sunday routine.

“Worrying is John’s specialty.” You say with surety, your lips pulling into a smile as the steam of your drink caresses your cheeks, imagining the man and the furrow in his brow when he sees something out in public he didn’t like. He always pulled you close to him in those instances, keeping a hand on the small of your back like he was your personal security detail instead of your boyfriend. Not that you minded, of course. In fact, you found it incredibly attractive that he cared about you that much, “I’ll leave it to him to glare at every bump in the night, especially if it means he ends up sleeping on top of me like last time.”

So why was there a twist in your stomach that refused to leave? You shook your head, setting down your cup and grabbing at your egg sandwich with twitching fingers.

Not my business, you thought to yourself, chewing the bread and protein between your teeth and swallowing thickly before going back in for another bite, Nothing even happened.

But it was, unfortunately, going to be your business at about five O’clock at night.

Just finishing a deep clean of the pantry that you had been putting off for days, your ears had tuned out the sound of the radio on the counter, your favorite song just finishing up that you had been mindlessly enjoying. If anyone had heard you singing along as you had, it would have left you more embarrassed than the time you had accidentally punched Soap in the gut when he had snuck up on you at the base.

To this day, the Scot had never let you live that event down, but Price had told you fondly that if you could land a hit on his Sargent and leave him winded, there was no need at all to feel bad.

It was only in the break between songs that you finally heard your phone ringing from the living room.

Placing down the box of noodles that you had been trying to find a place in the pantry for with a huff of breath, your hand flicked off the radio as you left the kitchen. Mildly annoyed to be interrupted, you grabbed your phone from the couch cushion where you had thrown it a while ago, flipping the screen over as the incessant ringing stopped.

“Damn,” You mutter, mad that you had missed whoever had called, though you knew it couldn’t have been John or the others of 141 – they were never allowed to call on missions due to possible breaches of security – and you never wanted to put them in danger just because you missed your boyfriend.

The number of missed notifications made you freeze.

Inside your chest, your pulse skyrockets as your eyes skim over fifty-two missed calls from John, twenty-five from Gaz, fifteen from Soap, and seven from Ghost with a rising panicked fever. That last one was strange – Ghost never called you. It wasn’t that you weren’t close, he just hated not seeing the person he was talking to over the phone when he had the choice to. He had shown up at the house multiple times just to ask a question about a chicken recipe you had made the team a while back.

Your lips thin with a sense of eerie calm. Had you been cleaning the pantry that long? You swore it had only been two hours since you started.

“What the fuck,” You whisper, but before you could click John's notification to call him back, the phone started ringing just on cue. Stabbing the green icon with your shaking finger, your hands vibrate as you snap the device to your ear, but already your boyfriend was shouting on the other end.

“-Oh, thank the bloody fucking Lord,” Your boyfriend utters your name, and his voice pauses as he takes a relieved breath, but the frantic tone persists onto the next sentence. He sounded like he was running, and briefly, you hear him shout over his shoulder to someone most likely following behind him, probably Gaz, “Listen to me right now,” Foliage is shoved aside, and you blink in confusion at the sound, “and get out of the house. Now, Love, I know you have questions, and I’d be happy to answer all of them when I know you’re safe, but I can’t explain right now. You need to go to this exact location–”

“John, what the hell? Leave the house? It’s five on a Sunday.” You stumble backward, spotting your shoes and coat by the door with a terrified expression. What the fuck was he talking about? Leave the house…right now? It was dark out, the street lamps the only light left and not to mention freezing.

“Get out of the fucking house! Now!” Flinching your breath hitches at the words you could only describe as orders as his accent deepens gutturally at the shout coming from his lips.

John had never raised his voice at you before – despised it, really, and because of that arguments always led to both parties leaving to separate rooms to cool off before talking again with level heads on their shoulders. He never had outbursts like that. Ever. But this…

Your feet rush to the door, slipping on your shoes with quaking feet as you swallow harshly.

“Okay,” You whisper into the phone, voice noticeably weak from nerves and fear. Something was horribly wrong, and the same feeling from this morning returned tenfold, nearly like an ironic ‘I told you so’ as your stomach rolls.

“...Shit, I-I–” Whatever apology John was about to utter was lost to you as your hand went to open the door, gripping the knob before stopping in your tracks.

Whispers. Whispers coming from outside the door. Your ears strain for a solid minute before your eyes widen in their sockets. Alarm bells were ringing inside of your mind, and you slowly backed up and interrupted the directions that John was spewing off, hands clenching as sweat formed in the groves of skin.

“John, someone’s at the front door. I hear whispering.” Silence, and the sound of increased panting, a body running faster and faster as shouts reverberate in the background. Were those gunshots you heard? And muffled gasping? “John.” You breathily whisper, eyes snapping back and forth but focusing on nothing.

“There’s a safe in my office, the code is 5-6-2-1. Inside you are going to find a firearm–”

“What?!” Your face stiffens, but your feet already carry you silently backward toward John’s office room, “What the fuck?”

“Listen to me,” Price grunts, voice so desperate you weren't sure the same person was speaking to you anymore, “Gaz and the others already contacted the police and Laswell, but they’re not going to get there in time. You need to be prepared for when they bust through the door.”

Bust through the door?! Your thoughts run and with gasping breaths, you turn fully around and begin rushing through the house.

“Speak to me, Love,” John utters, choice cutting out and filtering back in, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You owe me a ring after all of this I swear to–” The front door busts off its hinges and multiple pairs of rushing feet storm through the house, and all-consuming shouts drown out your screams. You drop the phone as John bellows your name into the speaker, voice breaking. Turning to run, hands snatch at your wrists and shoulders dragging you away from the office that was so close at hand and back to the door. All you caught a glance of were black uniforms, heads completely covered like common criminals. But they were anything but.

“Get the Hell off me...! John! John, please!” Your screaming is cut off by the end of a gun falling to your temple, blinding pain erupting behind your eyes as blood spurts from a wound breaking your skin.

Disoriented, you fall silent, head lulling to the side as your swinging arms and legs fill with TV static. They lay limp as strange hands wrap around your middle, dragging you out the door as John’s voice becomes faint in the distance. You fall unconscious to his rage-filled voice, the volume of his threats so loud you heard them in the streets before darkness takes you.

“I will tear every one of you fuckers to pieces if you break one hair on her fucking head! Do you hear me?! You keep her out of this–”

                                      –

And now you were sitting tied to a chair, head throbbing with venomous fear pulsing through your veins; your body shaking as the initial confusion leeks away.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, You think, head snapping this way and that even if it makes you want to vomit right into your lap. The rope over your wrists and waist digs deep, your skin already red long before you start jerking your limbs to try and move them.

The room looked like an old storage container, with metal on the walls and floors with a single handing light from the low ceiling that buzzed. But what caught your attention more were the blood stains. Sucking in quick breaths, your eyes jerk from one to another, all dried but looking large and having spawned from wounds that no one could walk away from. Suddenly aware of your situation, a whimper falls from your lips.

Where was John? You wanted him with you, wanted to feel him bring you to his chest and never let go, feel the steady beating of his reliable heart against your ear like a lifeline; you wanted to grip his skin and lay gentle kisses to his cheeks and lips, let his beard tickle you like it always did – leaving you laughing as John rubs his head into your neck to tease you with it.

The blue peeling paint of the storage container didn’t look like the precise blue of John’s eyes, just a pale imitation. Strangely, that was the thought that made the growing tears in the sides of your eyes slip down your cheeks. That wasn’t his blue; nothing else could be. Your fingers clench into fists so tight the skin turns white.

“John,” You sob, the blood from your head wound dripping down your chin. It sings, “John, where are you? Please, I’m scared.”

Footsteps sound from outside, but you immediately know they don’t belong to your boyfriend. They were too heavy, and, whoever it was, they didn’t carry themselves with the grace that John always did when he was with you or in the field. While being built better than a bodybuilder, your lover had been trained to take on tasks that most would consider death sentences…and he sure as hell didn’t walk like that. The stranger was so loud even your untrained ears picked up on it, and your body responds by becoming even more tense as a shadow settled behind the door.

A long stretch of silence and ragged breathing, your occasional sniffling contrasting the thick air.

The large door opens with a slam that makes you flinch back into your chair, wrist ropes skinning the fragile skin as you choke at the pain.

His face is unfamiliar, one twisted by emotions you weren't sure most normal people experienced in their lifetime. He stalks closer, and instinctually you attempt to pull back to no avail. The ropes begin to draw blood, the metallic scent coating your nose.

Behind the stranger, the door closes silently, a dull thumb announcing the barrier.

“My name is Ilya,” His Russian accent was heavy, making the words harsh. Ilya clunks forward, standing a few feet from you as he stares down his large nose, “You are John Price’s pet, no?”

Pet? Despite the pounding in your head, you hold your tongue but show an annoyed grimace.

When you don’t respond, Ilya’s hand connects with your right cheek, snapping your neck agonizingly to the side with a deafening slap. Your world swims, and a buzzing takes hold in your ears like an explosion had gone off right next to you. Fresh blood flows from your lip – you think with a groan that you bit into it accidentally.

Be brave, You swallow the scream in your throat, working the kink out of your jaw, John would want me to be brave. He’s coming for me. I know he is. The thought comforts you. Never in your life had you doubted John and his loyalty; many would call it his defining factor.

He was going to find you – him and Gaz and the rest of your boys.

“You are to answer me when I ask you a question, Pet. Understand?”

“Go fuck yourself,” You snarl, tears falling to your lap with dull splats and absorbing into John’s gray sweatpants. Your face burns.

Ilya smirks, square jaw pulling back. He grabs at something with his left arm, your eyes following the movements in horror as he draws a long knife from his waistband.

“Alright,” He mutters, fingering the tip of the blade and nodding his head, “I can play that game.”

He walks three steps forward before a sound like bending metal sounds from outside, and suddenly the two of you are shrouded in inky darkness. Your panicked breathing stills.

Did someone destroy the breaker box? Shaking, you find it in yourself to weakly smirk, hope rising in you.

“I hope you’re really good at dodging punches…because John saves his fists for the worst ones.”

The door breaks off its hinges, and the sound of familiar, muffled, footsteps rush into the storage container. Ilya never stood a chance.

“Get over here--!” Not being able to see anything, all you could do was listen to the feral sound of skin connecting with skin echoes throughout the metal box. A body drops to the floor with choking gasps of pleas before other people rush into the room, one shadow immediately zipping to your side. You flinch.

“It’s me,” Gaz mutters, “You’re alright, it’s just me.” You hadn’t noticed the frantically fast pace of your heart until you had the time to be concerned about it.

Gaz’s hands immediately go to the ropes, cutting you free with his combat knife before dragging you into his arms. Your legs feel weak, but you find the energy to nuzzle your head into the man’s chest with a relieved sigh. But it’s not John. Still, you hear your boyfriend reaming on Ilya, the man most certainly dead by now due to John’s strength.

“Captain,” Soap’s voice calls from the doorway, his shadow shifting. He clears his throat as Gaz places a careful hand on the back of your head, a slow sigh leaving his lips to ruffle your hair, “Sir. He’s dead.”

The ragged and bloody punches come to a gradual stop, and heavy panting reverberates. Your head turns to the side, muttering, “John?” With squinted eyes, trying to make him out in the darkness. A quick rustling of equipment catches you by surprise, but the warm hands that grip your shoulders lightly don’t scare you; it turns you around with a heart-tightening gentleness.

A new chest meets your cheek, warmer than Gaz’s as well as broader. Stiffer. John. John. John. Your hands snap around his waist with a wet sob ripping from your lungs, leaving you breathless and gasping for air as more tears come.

“Shh,” His lips are on your head, muttering into your hair as his arms completely encompass the expanse of your back. If you were any closer you would be afraid you would disappear into his skin, ceasing to exist, “Shh, shh. I’ve got you. I’m here. It’s never going to happen again, I promise you. I love you.”

You only held him impossibly tighter, and you could hear Gaz and Soap in the background let out deep sighs of relief, slapping each other on the shoulders. They exit after a few quick glances and the lights flicker on a moment later – most likely Ghost’s doing. Your heart warmed at them for privacy, though your eyes snapped shut at the sudden light.

John’s hands left you for a moment, prompting a small whine from you before they returned swiftly to grip the back of your head, the large night vision rig on his helmet re-set back so he could see you.

“Let me look at my girl,” He murmurs, chest rumbling from his soft tone. You were happy that only you ever got to hear him speak like this. You turn your head to rest it on his chest, gazing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. At the sight of your bruised cheek and bloody temple, his eyebrows furrow, a quick rage overtaking him as you watch his eyes darken. But you don’t say anything, just watch as John’s arms squeeze you before one hand travels up to your face. He lightly presses at the thin cut on your head and stops when you let out a quiet hiss. Guilt swims in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Darling. If I had known he would go after you I never would have left you home alone.”

“John,” you whisper, voice hoarse in your throat. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours, lightly bumping against your forehead, “It’s not your fault.”

“But I–”

“You came for me, didn’t you?”

“Always.” He says it so softly you feel your eyes tear up again.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You tilt your head and capture his lips with your own, lightly moving your hands to grip his hairy cheeks as his thumb caresses your temple, the other you feel shaking around your waist. The adrenaline was wearing off.

John was tall, and to fully kiss him you had to get up on your tip-toes and hope he wasn’t going to tease you and pull back with a cheeky smile, but you would do it until your feet bled to feel the warmth that he give you as his lips dance with your own. They were soft for such a hardened man. Had he been using the Chapstick you had let him borrow for when he was away?

You pull back for air, your neck becoming sore at the angle you hold it just as John sighs, eyes flickering over you once more. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question.

“Marry me.” Your eyes widen, recalling your comment before your house had been broken into. Had he really asked you that?

“Are…are you really asking me for my hand while the dead body of the man that kidnapped me is behind you?”

“So…is that a ‘no?’” His eyes crinkle.

“You’re mental, John Price,” A smile splits your features, and you find him mirroring your expression. Your heart pounds, though not from fear this time. At his cheeks, your hands drag him in for another kiss, brief, though you pour every single emotion into it as you can. You feel the hitch in his chest and feel a blossoming of pride that you have the same effect on him as he does you. Leaning back, he chases you, though you stop him with a finger to his lips. There were his eyes again, those sapphire blues that sparkled when they looked at you, “But, yes.” You whisper, liking the way he almost looked relieved.

Like you would ever deny him. Like you could deny those baby blues when they looked at you with such love.

“I love you,” He whispers, pressing his face into your neck, kissing the skin in reverence, leaving fireworks in the wake of his lips.

“I love you more,” You whisper, nuzzling into his chest and gripping his shirt in tight fists. He chuckles at you.

“Not possible.”

[faetreides]

summary: racer!john b x s/o!reader x racer!jj

cw: dom/sub undertones, spanking, dp in one hole, goes without saying but… unrealistic sex lol, threesome, armpit action (jj with john b), BOYS KISSING 😨, written in the middle of night while watching the powerpuff girls so once again don’t think just vibe, f1 racer john b & jj coded but i didn’t care enough to make it super accurate 💀, fucking on the hood of a car, possibly ooc since this is my 2nd obx piece, implications of plus sized reader

wc: 999

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

“C’mon dude, be careful, ‘m gonna hit my head on the windshield if you don’t slow down.” JJ moans, lazily sucking your tongue. Every one of John B’s thrusts sends you further up the hood of his race car, which the three of you are recklessly fucking on top of. They just wanted to celebrate their positions on the podium with their biggest fan.

The garage in which the car is being kept is so cold your nipples could fall off, but the body heat being shared between the three of you will probably keep it at bay. Probably.

Both John B and JJ were drenched in sweat and some kind of grease, the smell only makes your pussy clench tighter around JJ, his hips shoot up in surprise.

“Oh F-fuck! Just like that, mama~ So tight….”

John B’s pace in your ass slows so he can smack JJ upside the back of his head, “Told you to be fuckin’ quiet, don’t wanna get your bare ass on the news, maybank.”

Before JJ can retort that he very much would not mind him accidentally mooning whatever poor race track employee stumbles upon them, John B is grabbing his hair in one fist with the hand that’s not clutching at your fat ass and shoving his smug face into his hairy armpit.

The lesson does nothing, like usual, JJ just moans as his boyfriend’s strong musk invades his senses. He can wet smacking sounds that are obviously you and John B making out while John B rams your asshole. Since JJ already came before the two of you earlier, he busies himself with cleaning John B’s armpit and weakly slapping his balls against you when the friction fades away too much.

“Always yapping our baby’s ear off for no reason, when you know what else your mouth should be doing instead.”

The unabashed freakish behavior tests John B’s resolve, and he slaps JJ’s face to signal him to stop so he can drag him into a sticky kiss. Your clit throbs at your favorite sight of your boyfriend’s tongues curling around each other, especially when the string of spit that connects them when they pull away snaps and falls on your face.

You’re suddenly taken hostage into a threeway french kiss, which you pull away from to gasp when out of nowhere John B gropes your jiggling ass before harshly spanking it. You moan and try to stick your hips out as far as possible in your sandwiched position, earning you more rough spanks that leave the flesh stinging like hell. Just what you wanted, with a red handprint to match too.

“Yeah I know you like that, baby. This pretty little ass looks so good in red.” John B coos, smoothing his hand over the raw skin to soothe the welcome pain.

JJ pouts at the display, despite his cock seeming to harden inside of your creamy cunt. You lean down to suck on his nipples to placate him, silently communicating that he always gets spanked after you anyway.

JJ threads his hands into your hair, making sure you keep his chest lookin’ pretty as he mentally prepares himself to start fucking up into you again. You’re just so heavenly and wet and warm and tight, he really does think you were put on this earth to drain the life outta him via his balls.

John B’s warning glare stops him, and when he obeys and keeps his hips still, the former’s gaze softens and JJ’s rewarded with a soft kiss on his forehead.

John B slowly eases out of your throughougly fucked ass, his thick tip catching on the puffy rim. You look over your shoulder to watch as he gives his stupidly big cock a few quick pumps before aiming the head at your stretched pussy. You nod and bite your lip when he shoots you a questioning look, having been together so long at this point that none of the three of you really needed any words to speak to each other.

The look of sheer excitement on JJ’s face when he feels the other man’s cock slide up along his inside of you is almost better than how pleased your greedy hole is.

“Oh shit, are you sure you can take it, mama? You’re already shaking over me, ‘s cute.”

“They’re doing just fine, aren’t you, peach? So good for us, our little cheerleader.” John B answers for you, you moan out a ‘yes, babe i can always take it’ to JJ as you get used to the stretch.

You don’t indulge in this often, and truth be told your boyfriends are usually hesitant to give you both of their dicks. Winning never fails to get them so horny that they’d be willing to listen to the devils on their shoulders that are their cockheads though. It’s why you always run to jump in their arms with an extra pep in your step when they break through the crowd of press and racing personnel.

You wiggle your hips to indicate that they can move, and they start fucking with gentle thrusts. They speed up their pace soon after, both of your boyfriend’s moaning at the feeling of their cocks rubbing together inside of you. Not one of you is thinking coherently, you’re all too preoccupied with panting into each other’s mouths and scratching red lines down whatever parts of your sweaty bodies you can reach.

It’s a miracle you and JJ don’t slip off of his car’s hood, there’s countless kinds of fluids all over you and you depend on John B behind you to hold you up. JJ’s too fucked out to down to earth. You suck bruises into his neck when he throws it back against the car as John B hunches over to bite down your back.

Two sets of hands toy with your fat clit, and your orgasm makes you black out so hard that you miss the questioning shouts outside.

[hier--soir]

☆★ jessie's masterlist★☆

hi welcome :)

my blog is 18 + minors do not interact. warnings/tags included on each individual work. do not copy or translate my writing.

follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

ELLIE WILLIAMS | THE LAST OF US

★ sun don't set: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you.

JOHN PRICE | CALL OF DUTY

★ heart to heart: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | CALL OF DUTY

★big: he’s big and he knows it.

JOEL MILLER | THE LAST OF US

★ a lover's pinch [series]: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?

★ take your medicine: your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen

★ ripe: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship.

★ fwb!joel [series]: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. slowly but surely, it turns into more.

★ night breeze: joel comes home to find you sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes.

★ fake it: does joel know you well enough to know when you're faking it?

★ back to texas: joel goes back to his house in texas

★ sleepy: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep

★ be good: joel was never really the submissive type. until he met you, and realised he'd do whatever you asked of him

★ tender is the night [for a broken heart]: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear.

★ under the night [series]: peaceful settlement life in jackson is vastly different to how you once lived; traversing the united states, fighting to survive, and constantly looking over your shoulder. when you find solace and connection in joel miller and your guard lowers, will it become clear that jackson isn't as safe as it once seemed?

ABBY ANDERSON | THE LAST OF US PART II

★ high strung: abby has seemed distracted in your sessions as of late. when you discover why, you help to ease some of her tension.

★ one last time: when the woman you love comes crawling back in the middle of the night, can you convince her to stay?

FRANCISCO MORALES | TRIPLE FRONTIER

★ vis-à-vis: your bedroom window offers a direct view into your cute neighbour's apartment. as time goes by, you two start looking for each other through the glass. shy glances become desperate, needy glimpses into each other's lives until one day, you finally make contact.

DIN DJARIN | THE MANDALORIAN

★ raising cain [series]: over fifteen months and three different cities, two lonely souls keep finding their way back to one another. leading fragile lives of solitude, of violence, both Cain and Din Djarin can't help but be drawn to the familiarity in the other's embrace; the feeling of another person truly knowing them, in a world where not many can. as their lives begin to unravel, the two are faced with a choice between trusting, or having it all end in bloodshed.

FRANK CASTLE | THE PUNISHER

★ boxer!frank:

on the ropes: a dive bar, a stranger in an alley, and a punch to the kidney.

[writefightandflightclub]

Blorbo thought of the day #1

More: Steven Grant x GN! reader

Author’s note: Wanted to start doing a “Blorbo thought of the day” thing. Idea is that I will share a snippet of one of the many blorbo scenarios which pop into my head on the daily, but which I don’t have time to develop into a full fic. Sometimes it will be smut, sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, sometimes… a surprise? And I don’t mean literally every day, but whenever I can! This one turned into more of a smutty blurb, but I intend for others to be much shorter snippets, bits of dialogue, headcanons etc..

Who better to start with than Steven?

Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t. (In which you gag on Steven’s cock and it sends him FERAL.)

NSFW/18+ Minors interacting will be blocked.

Steven Grant is a gentle lover.

Until he isn’t.

You are on your knees for him as he stands in front of you. Hadn’t even managed to strip off his work clothes yet before you were stripping them for him. Undoing his belt, and peeling away his trousers and boxers. Pushing his back up against the thick wooden beam of his attic room and taking him eagerly into your mouth.

He’s soft. Careful. Always. Let’s you take the lead.

Tonight is no exception.

Steven rests his hand gingerly on the crown of your head as you suck him - nothing but a gentle, reassuring weight. His long eyelashes flutter as he flits his gaze over you; the angel -divine being- making him feel so good.

You didn’t care who came through the door, you’d said. Whether it was him or Marc or Jake - you were getting down on your knees. Had been thinking about it all day.

But you’d told him, when he walked through the door, that you’d been glad it was him.

He’s still not used to this. To being wanted. To how good your mouth feels wrapped around him. Being buried in you.

Steven is a gentle lover. Makes a point of it. Never wants to hurt you. Push you. Take anything you don’t want to give. Has never even considered getting rough with you.

But tonight, he can’t help but think about what it would be like… just to take a little more.

Maybe because he’s had a stressful day at the museum. Maybe because he’s been thinking about coming home to you all day too and relieving his frustrations.

Whatever the reason, Steven can’t help but think about it; because he knows that the others are rougher with you, sometimes. That they don’t treat you like you’re about to break - like he does.

What were the words he’d heard?

Jake: soft dom. Marc: service top. Him: vanilla, submissive.

And so, he can’t help but think about it, because if they’d arrived tonight instead of him, wouldn’t this all be different?

The thought of that, combined with the feel of your velvet lips and the welcoming, warm wet cave of your mouth makes Steven so hard he can see stars blur the edge of his vision. Makes him grow over eager as you work your pretty mouth on him, bucking his hips and driving his length enthusiastically home, deeper into the cave of you. His hand gripping the back of your head just a little tighter than usual in his desperation to come undone.

He didn’t mean to. Didn’t mean to translate this desire from out of his head into the real world. You didn’t expect it.

It takes you a little by surprise.

Enough, to make you gag on Steven’s cock, just for a second; until you are surging off of him, eyelashes wet as you blink away the instant, spiking surge of tears.

Steven means to say something. He really does. Feels awful. Means to say “sorry, love, I’m so sorry”.

To soothe you. To do something.

But he… doesn’t.

Because…. Fuck.

He liked it.

A lot.

To his great relief, you seem unphased too, your lips curling up into a little smile before you curl them once again around his girth.

You continue: still gentle, still soft. Still in control. Setting your own pace.

Except this time Steven is inwardly going feral.

The thought of you gagging on him again. The thought of you surging off of him because he’s too big. The noises you made. The feeling of your throat convulsing around his cock. Even the tears in your eyes and the thought that you want him so much you’ll try so valiantly to take him all.

He’s panting. It’s awoken something in him. He’s throwing his head back against the beam. Eyes are screwing shut. His teeth are biting into his lower lip. His fingers are curling into your hair and - oh God. It feels divinely good but he wants…

Oh God.

He wants to push you down on him until you heave with the swell of him and he’s resisting the urge and you’re sucking him so deep and he can’t take it because he wants -needs to- bury himself even deeper.

Needs more and he’s aching for it.

“-Steven,” you purr, looking up at him, lips plumped and glistening with spit and god. “If you don’t want to make me gag on you again, you can always just ask. I can tell you liked it.”

He opens his eyes. Looks down at you on your knees. His mouth dropped open in surprise, and his legs nervy and trembling. A wracked, disbelieving moan spools from his chest, his cock almost bursting at the thought of it. Of making you choke on him. “W-would you d-do that for me, love?”

Your eyes glint with mischief. With want. “Steven.” You kiss the swollen head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the contours of him until he twitches, nearly spilling himself right then. “I’d do anything for you.”

He releases a shaky breath.

Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t.

Until he fists his hand in your hair and drives you down on his shaft, losing all composure as he hears you, feels you, sees you gagging on his size, your hands pressed calmly to his bared thighs as he holds you there and you let him.

And, as he does you fold the flat of your tongue around him. Let him take you, fill you, fuck into the circle of you, your throat resisting; gagging on him.

Steven can’t take it.

Didn’t know he would like this. Never would have guessed.

But within moments, he is emitting a ragged moan. He is pulsing his hot release down your throat. Giving you everything, as you eagerly take it. Swallow him down, until he’s drained; empty. Your hands smoothing up and down his shuddering thighs. Your tongue cleaning every last drop of mess from him. Humming against his softening shaft.

“Was that good, baby?”

He thinks he might black out. Can’t speak.

Can’t speak; until he can. “Love. C-Can we do it again?”

Your mouth curls into a smile; before you wrap it all the way around him.

When it comes to you, Steven can never get enough. He always want more.

At the same time though, you’re more than enough for him.

You’re everything, and he’s so happy he was the one to walk through the door.

[kquil]

🍪 : cookie with Siri and giving their baby a bath. Like sitting in the tub together and bathing the baby 😭💕

A/N : this is a mini series and Remus's version is on the way i promise! (thank you for requesting a whole mini series of this adorable scenario, my lovely (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)) this one is a little angsty but still fluffy ٩( ^ᴗ^ )۶

Sirius isn’t used to a loving family, nor is he used to engaging in fun family activities together; it wasn’t a concept that he was used to. So when you suggested taking a bath together with your baby, he was stunned but definitely up for for giving it a try. 

“I-Isn’t this a little bizarre, doll?” Sirius asks, embarrassed as he watches you undress before him despite his preceding playboy reputation at Hogwarts. 

“Not at all, Siri,” you giggle and bring your daughter into your arms as you step into the bath, sinking down to sit in between his outstretched legs as his arms sit atop the bath’s surrounding edges, “and besides, it’ll help Aurelie with her bath phobia,”

“She has a phobia?” Sirius’s brows immediately furrow as his worried gaze affixes onto his pouting, teary-eyed daughter, who's being more fussy than usual. How has he not noticed before?

“Yeah,” you muse sadly, cooing at your daughter and kissing her temple comfortingly, “she’s always fussy when it comes to baths so I thought that maybe if we sit with her, she’ll learn to like it,”

Sirius sighs in disappointment, “I’m a bad father…” his face turns sour as he thinks about his own upbringing and how his parents’ mistreatment of him is now affecting him as a father and, therefore, his beloved daughter too. 

“I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop it right now Sirius,” your voice is firm and strict as you turn his chin to look him in the eye. There’s anger, sadness, guilt and disappointment in his grey eyes, a whirlpool of tormented emotions still haunting him, “you’re working so hard providing for us so it’s okay for you to miss out on Aurelie’s bath times so you can rest,” 

“But-”

“None of that-”

“Wahhhhh!” your daughter’s shrill cry breaks your moment and you both turn to tend to her discomfort. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” Sirius coos, his soothing voice and the familiar touch of his hand against her tiny back immediately having an effect on her.

Observant as ever, you spot the problem instantly and lean your head against your husband’s shoulder so you could whisper to him, “she probably saw your distress and got worried for you too. Maybe she thinks you both share a fear of baths,” you giggle and shuffle yourself and your daughter closer to your husband, “lets show her that there’s nothing to fear,”

Smiling warmly, the earlier negative thoughts long forgotten, Sirius coos at his daughter, “don’t be frightened baby,” he creates small waves in the water with his hand. He then presses his fingers together and lifts a small cup of water up to cascade over his daughter’s small shoulders and back, “see? It’s safe, you’re safe,”

“Daddy will keep us safe and happy, darling,” you coo and kiss her cheek as Sirius kisses her other cheek, “we can relax when Daddy’s around,” it takes a little more convincing but Aurelie finally seems to be comfortable enough with the water to splash it with her tiny hands and squeal in delight. 

“Good girl, see? All safe~” Sirius coos, expression warm and so full of love as he looks adoringly at the manifestation of his and your love ⏤ his perfect little princess. 

“Good job, Daddy,” you coo and kiss his jawline, feeling his cheeks round into a smile before he turns and kisses your temple.

"Je t'aime tellement,"

TRANSLATION ⏤Je t'aime tellement : I love you so much

1K MILESTONE EVENT | NAVI.